


Merlin the Druid King extra

by halfhardtorock



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Dubious Consent, M/M, Magic, Sex Rituals, Somnophilia, magical coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfhardtorock/pseuds/halfhardtorock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Didn't think I'd see <i>you</i> today," the woman says suddenly, and when Arthur blows his hair out of his eyes and gazes at her, she's grinning at him like they share a secret.</p><p>Arthur's eyes narrow.</p><p>"Well," she says, and shakes out a wet shirt. "I didn't think I'd see you today unless you were wandering bowlegged out to the well to fetch a drink, your fair face all pale and fragile." She laughs at herself. And then winks.</p><p>Arthur is mystified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merlin the Druid King extra

 

 

He's down at the river, doing his own washing, arms and knuckles red from the cold water when a druid woman he recognizes, ripe now with her third child, lumbers up beside him with her own basket.

"Hm," she says when she sees him, eyebrow raised. Then she begins pulling out her washing.

Arthur imagines she's amused, because he's scrubbing one of Merlin's black tunics and if the lazy sod king would get off his arse and do his own washing, Arthur wouldn't have to.

It makes him frown, makes him handle his work roughly.

"Didn't think I'd see _you_ today," the woman says suddenly, and when Arthur blows his hair out of his eyes and gazes at her, she's grinning at him like they share a secret.

Arthur's eyes narrow.

"Well," she says, and shakes out a wet shirt. "I didn't think I'd see you today unless you were wandering bowlegged out to the well to fetch a drink, your fair face all pale and fragile." She laughs at herself. And then winks.

Arthur is mystified.

"What?" he finally asks.

"It's ok, pretty Prince. Everyone knows it is Merlin's special day."

Her expression is almost dreamy when she shakes the next shirt and says. "Used to be, before you, just the village boys to quench it. Gosh, never wanted to be born a son so much as back then."

And then she looks at him sharply and says "Can he really spare you to do the washing? Oughten you get back quick?"

"No?" Arthur says, swallowing. Thinking. "Merlin went...went out this morning."

Her eyebrows crawl upwards, face shocked. And then she recovers, looks back at her washing. "Oh."

"What do you mean, Merlin's special day?" Arthur asks her.

"It's nothing," she brushes off, and seems to gather her things quickly, though she's not possibly done.

"Wait," he catches her arm. "Tell me what you mean."

She looks embarrassed. "It's just...his special day. When he's...when he feels, ah. Close to the earth."

Arthur snorts. "He's always close to the earth. I sometimes find whole brambles in his hair-"

"-no, prince. I mean. Ah. It is the day when his magic... _quickens_."

Arthur stares at her.

"What?"

 

 

He's read about the druids and their rites, heard of the strange way they meet with the gods. Outside of temples and in the open air, making offerings of burnt herbs and song and sometimes, their magic.

Sometimes their heat.

Merlin has this one grove of oaks that he likes to wander to. He's brought Arthur on accident twice, while they were 'hunting'. Each time, Arthur had rolled his eyes, threw up his hands and complained "HERE, again? There is nothing here!" And Merlin had lolled in the grass and looked up through the bowers at the sky, completely lazy and useless as usual.

That's where Arthur finds them.

Laying on the ground in the short, new grass is a naked youth, red marks on his chest like palm-prints smeared. Blood or...or cinnabar, madder. The marks rise and fall quickly with his shallow breath.

Between the man's legs, bobbing on his cock, is Merlin. His cheek is a high pink in the sunlight.

Merlin's dark head moves up and down like it's delicious work. The druid youth is getting a fine suck from his king.

Arthur crouches to watch, sweaty under his shirt, prickly at his lower back. His throat is all tight on the angry shout he wants to give.

The youth arches suddenly, intake sharp. He finds his release with bodily shivers, lip trembling.

Arthur glowers, sweat dripping down his temple, tickling at his jaw.

"So begins y-your summer," the youth recites after, voice confused.

Merlin sits up on his knees, frowns down at the youth and says "You're done already?"

The youth swallows and falls back into the dirt, dazed "Y-you've worn me out, but more will come. I think. I...they will be ready by morning. I hope."

He's a pretty thing, pale curls damp to his brow, mouth as nice as a girl's.

But when he opens his eyes, they're _glassy_ like he's spent half his young vitality in Merlin's soft mouth today.

Arthur reins his horse close sharply, digs his boot into the dirt and gets up. He tries to walk away in silence.

"...Arthur?" comes the Druid King's worried voice, questioning the forest's sounds.

Arthur quickly mounts his horse, heels its side.

They fly through the day, out of the Druid's sight.

He's so angry, he rides too far, breaking his father's promise to stay within Merlin's lands.

 

 

That night, he doesn't build a fire, just lays his bedding on the ground beside a strange creek. The waters are swollen with the final thaw of late spring. He hugs himself and listens to the spate of water through the bed, rushing towards the river to the west.

Back to druid land.

He frowns himself to sleep, nose cold and damp.

 

 

He wakes to midday, a beam of light warming his face. He's sweating, kicks off the covers and just lays there, looking at the treetops, feeling wronged.

He gets up on his elbows after some sulking, sees his horse snuffling at the ground by the creek bed.

It's so quiet here, without the noise of the village coming awake. The only sound is his mail moving when he lifts it off with a groan, leaves it in a pool of silver links on top of his bed.

He wades out into the water in just his tunic. It's knee-deep and quick. The bottom is silty, soft squelch at his toes.

He's washing himself distractedly, remembering that youth's flushed face, hands cupping water to his underarms when he looks up, sees Merlin there, standing at his bedding.

"Shit!" Arthur snaps out once, surprised. And then he freezes, naked from the waist down, standing in a creek.

They scrutinize each other, Merlin's eyes narrowed. He's breathing like he ran all the way to Arthur. There's a scratch on his pale cheek, right along the curve of his cheekbone. The red prints on his pale chest are distorted, look melted away like he's sweated through them.

Arthur clears his throat. "I thought you were busy, with your... _special_ time."

Merlin's hand goes between his legs, takes a firm hold of himself through his breeches and squeezes.

Arthur's face feels strained with his grimace. He shivers in the water. "You..you should go back to your pretty young druid boy-" he tries but Merlin's eyes flare with magic and he beckons Arthur to him softly with it, like he's tugging an unseen line between them.

Arthur swallows hard, trips once as he jerks forward. He walks through the water, holding his tunic down over himself.

"It's the time when my magic ripens, sweetens the whole forest like thick pollen."

Arthur snorts, but still comes forward, pace quick.

Merlin mouth is parted, panting. "I wanted to bed you until your prick stopped lifting, and then I wanted to take your pretty, thick arse until your insides were tight with my come, but I didn't think you'd like it."

Arthur floods with embarrassment, cheeks warm with it. He drifts his hand in the water, presses his cooled palm to his face.

"Come here, come here, come here," Merlin beckons greedily, tugging the magic in his hands like it really was a rope. "You saw...you wanted--"

Arthur winces, mouth curled. "Shut up."

"Oh lovely prince, lie with me."

 

 

Merlin's all sharp knees and fingertips and eager suckle. Arthur goes slack underneath the the druid's quick work, body strange with heat. His wet tunic is stripped off and soft lips pluck eagerly at his nipple, making it prick.

"The gods made you and then me, and they wanted to lock us together-" Merlin tells him and then groans at his own handiwork, looking over Arthur's mottled chest.

"Ridiculous," Arthur breathes out, then gasps when Merlin goes to taste his other nipple. Then his adam's apple, with the flat of his wet tongue.

Then he trails his tongue down Arthur's chest. Arthur breathes rapid-fire, gasping, stomach pitting as Merlin's sharpening tongue tickles and twists around his belly button.

"Don't you feel it? Feel it," Merlin asks and begs, laving Arthur's tight abdomen, then the lean cut of his hips. Arthur's hands find his black, unruly hair, fist.

Merlin's hot, gusty breath skates over Arthur's swollen cockhead, making it dribble.

"Oh gods, you do--" Merlin says, voice excited. And then he's ducking his head, careless of how his hair pulls in Arthur's tight fists, to lap long strokes up Arthur's erect cock.

"Gnngh-yes I feel it. I feel your _whore tongue_ on my cock," Arthur growls through his teeth.

Merlin moans, worked up. And then he's slupping on the head, pinching it in a hard suck through his teeth.

"Ah! _Shit_ -" Arthur cries out, back arching sharply, hands pulling Merlin's hair _tighter_.

Merlin makes a frustrated sound in his throat, and then engulfs Arthur in gorgeous, startling heat.

Oh. Oh gods, he does feel it. He feels it like molten metal being poured through his limbs, making them hot and heavy. He's twisting at Merlin's hair, smelling the dirty sweetness of it as it's rucked up in his hands. He jerks his head up to stare down his body at his king's mouth on him. The sweet wrap of his lips. The cut of his cheekbones, jaw long to take Arthur's cock inside his mouth, his throat.

Merlin eyes him, expression so _earnest_

"Ah, _Merlin_ \--" Arthur groans, falling back again, his naked feet digging into the damp creek bed, scrambling for leverage.

Then it happens. His sack starts to cramp up. His stomach drops low and sickly hot. He barely has to chance to gasp "Gods, wait!" and he's spurting like his body will turn itself inside-out with the pleasure.

Merlin moans thickly around the spill in his mouth, eyelids trembling shut.

 

 

He's barely gotten his breath when Merlin twists him around onto his hands and knees, magic doing the work with only Merlin's soft, skittish hands guiding him.

"I'm not ready," Arthur gasps, hot face in the mud, eyes screwed shut.

"Shh, I know," Merlin soothes, and something like a over-thick, hot tongue begins tasting at Arthur's asshole.

"Shhhh," Merlin soothes again, two hands rubbing up and down Arthur's back, flicking a leaf off his shoulder. "Just take it. Gods. Your arse is so stubborn."

Arthur's whole body stiffens as he tries to clench himself closed to Merlin, as long as he can. But then he can't anymore and he sobs hard, once, feels that phantom tongue breach him, go _deep_. Deeper than any tongue can go, thick and flexing and opening him up.

He feels the wash of magic through his body again, drawing his balls up slowly.

"No, gods. _Wait_ ," he bleats, and then his eyes roll back as the pleasure takes his breath away, strangles at his balls, beats through his body again. The magic always makes his orgasm feel like he's being bested soundly, then thrown off a cliff.

He slumps, feels Merlin prying his knees wider, settling between.

"I'm going to find the summer inside you," Merlin tells him, thumbing his tongued arse, circling the responsive ring of it.

When he drives into Arthur, he cries out.

Arthur takes it with a grunt.

 

 

His arse is tender with come. Its lost its thickness in the humid heat of his body, so when he moves up on his knees, it trickles out of him.

Merlin is asleep beside him, naked arse in the air. He looks like a gangly farm boy, come to loll by the creek and wank off instead of do his chores.

Arthur frowns at him, then slowly spreads the druid's legs.

His arse hole is tight. Just a small, pink wrinkle. Arthur stares at it and then with a slow breath, leans low to test it with his tongue.

Merlin lets out a sleepy sound. Arthur pauses and when the king settles again, Arthur licks once more. Just feeling the divot and how much it resists.

In his sleep, Merlin starts humping the earth.

Arthur snorts, rolls his eyes. The wanton dirt king. Something warm spreads through him, and it takes him a moment to realize that it's Merlin's magic, sleepily touching through him, interested.

Arthur's cock springs up as a phantom hand cuffs it lightly, ghosting over the length as it twitches into hardness.

"Gods," Arthur moans and licks, licks and then touches his finger at the hole before pressing it into Merlin's slutty body.

Merlin makes hungry, "Uhn," sounds, half-confused. He's starting to wake.

Arthur quickly moves behind him, lines his cock to that little hole and begins a slow, forceful penetration while Merlin gasps, jarred awake.

"Oh my gods," Merlin whines out, long and shocked. Arthur's eyes cross at how _hot_ he is inside, how _tight-hot-alive_. He almost bites a wound into his lip at the feeling. That whorish heat just _swallows_ him up, leaves him mewling softly in over-arousal.

He fucks his king with snapping, graceless hips. Impatient for it. He's been fucking _dying_ for it, didn't even know. Just thought he wanted to _beat_ Merlin, wanted to run him through with his sword. Not this...gods. But he was wrong. He takes Merlin's bony hips in his hands, uses him all frantic and furious.

"Gods gods gods," Merlin gasps with each slam, clawing at the earth. "Arthur. Oh my gods, yessss," he begs.

Arthur has to let go, reach long and desperate to clap his palm over that stupid mouth, hold back all Merlin's begging. Can't stand to hear it. Gods. He feels like he's going to crack apart like a rock in a hot fire. He's bruising the druid's hip, doesn't care. Just...has to fuck--

It comes over him like the magic, but this time it's only because he's so _hot_ for it, so aroused. He can't help but scream through clenched teeth as he shatters.

Merlin makes wild sounds into his cupped palm. And then his body goes _berserk_ around Arthur, a startling, sudden wring and rhythm. He's coming. Oh...oh gods. Coming on Arthur's cock.

Arthur seethes, body ruddy with heat every where, head thrown back on his shoulders.

And then he collapses, smothering Merlin into the ground, still locked deep inside him.

A weak hand pets at his hair, reaching back to comb it, soothe him. Arthur just slumps, heavy. Not wanting to move, ever.

But the magic lifts him, makes him groan with frustration. Sets him on his side.

Merlin, lithe and curious, twists around to feel at himself, eyes wide. Feeling where Arthur broke him open and left him all slippery with seed.

Arthur watches, yawning. Exhausted.

Then Merlin sighs sweetly, turns over and wriggles down. Arthur inhales sharply as the druid takes him come-weakened cock in his mouth, begins to suck it gently.

"Oh. Oh fuck-" Arthur hyperventilates.

They're not done.

 

 


End file.
